Daryl Finds a Hat
by BelhavenOnTap
Summary: I've been enjoying all the Daryl Dixon memes. Like the meme of Daryl holding Judith, I think Daryl could make a whole new set of vaginas explode with this one. Newbie to TWD. Please review. Cheers, Bel


Daryl had no serious objections to doing the supply run that day, although he believed that he would have found the company of Carol much more enjoyable. With Carol, conversation was easy and silence was never uncomfortable. With Andrea, silence was inconceivable. Good lord, she could prattle on and on. Ever since she had grazed him with a bullet, she somehow was always offering to help him do anything, trying to give him extra portions of her food, and even going so far as to gather up all of his clothes one day when he was out hunting and used the laundry detergent that she had been hoarding, the one he would admit smelled really good, to wash his clothes. It creeped him out that she had touched his underwear but couldn't find it in himself to gripe at her too much—other than to say that he had no problem doing his own laundry, that he didn't expect her to do it and especially not to waste her nice detergent on him, that maybe she could use it for the ladies and he would keep an eye out for more when he went on supply runs. And then, she spontaneously hugged him. He saw Carol begin snickering and flipped her the bird, while explaining to Andrea that she should also save the hugs for the ladies.

Daryl had noticed a FedEx distribution center that was off the road and appeared not to have been discovered by anyone else. He had a feeling it would be a gold mine of supplies, so he and his most unwanted shadow (Andrea) loaded up in the tonner with the gooseneck trailer. Glenn and T-Dog followed in the SUV. There weren't even any walkers inside the building. Utility knives in hand, they began opening boxes.

"Oh, hell to the yeah!" he exclaimed, when he opened the huge box that was full of hot pink knitted hats.

Andrea heard Daryl's uncharacteristically chipper outburst and looked up to see him pulling pink "Pussyhats" out of a giant box. She couldn't hear what he was muttering, as he began to make piles of hats on the floor. As she got closer, she heard, "Acrylic, acrylic, merino, shitily-handspun merino—thanks for the effort but no offense, in all likelihood dead lady, you couldn't spin for shit-more goddam useless acrylic, Corriedale—yeah, the mack daddy of scratchiness—and more acrylic, and even more acrylic—and for real? Polwarth and silk?"

Then Andrea saw something happen that she never would have expected. He put that particular hat on his head, then began reading a little card that was attached to the hat. "Kick ass, she dyed and spun it herself. Thank you, Esther Halliwell, whoever you are or were. Probably the nicest hat made for the March, and it never made it to DC. Well, Esther, I appreciate it and you did one hell of a three needle bind off. I bet you were one awesome lady. I hope you're still alive and safe somewhere."

Andrea, a lifelong knitter, who began spinning in law school to calm her nerves, was intrigued by Daryl's woolly monologue, as he turned back to the box and began sorting hats again.

"Alpaca—baby alpaca, no guard hairs, nice—acrylic, more awesome alpaca, more damn acrylic. Well, strike me dead, this really is Shetland. Hand-carded, hand spun Shetland. Nice. Dear lord, these people were generous, silk and merino. Damn, how many did this lady send? Well, ma'am, I know they didn't make it to the March, but I hope your spirit's not too offended that I'm going to repurpose these into my new long johns. And, lo and behold, pure BFL and not too scratchy, hmm. Must have put an ass ton of hair conditioner on it. More damn useless acrylic. Is this Suffolk? Yep, nice try, ma'am, but you gotta card it better than that. That's scratchy as the day is long. More acrylic. And what do we have here? Seriously, how cool is this. Cormo and silk—"

"Nice hat, Daryl." Andrea said, stepping in close to him, closer than he preferred.

"Feel it." He said, extending it to her but not letting go of it. "Nice, yeah?"

"One of the things I miss most is my spinning wheel and all my knitting. It kept me halfway sane."

He nodded and began sorting the hats into piles again.

"It's going to get cold soon. We need real wool to keep warm and dry. This acrylic shit won't cut it."

"How do you know all of the fibers, Daryl?" Andrea asked.

"I've been shearing since I was about ten."

"Ten? You could have been killed. No way."

"Not lying."

"Did your parents raise sheep?"

"No."

God, talking to him could be like pulling teeth.

"How did you start shearing sheep?"

"My aunt had wool sheep and I would go spend most summers with her when I was a kid. She also bred and trained Great Pyrenees dogs to be sheepdogs. I always wanted to be with the dogs. Dogs like that live in the barn with the sheep, so the sheep can teach them to be sheepdogs. Most mornings when I was little, they would find me in the barn, curled up with the dogs and the sheep."

He regretted speaking the minute he saw her face contorting for her "Awww, that is the sweetest thing." By then, Glenn and T-Dog had walked over, where he was obviously talking way too damn much.

"So, at some point, I asked if I could shear my favorite sheep. He was a big old Falkland, and he hated being sheared. I always figured it was because someone had nicked him. He would run away when he saw the clippers come out. But I just asked him nicely if he would mind letting me take four years of wool off him. He didn't make any fuss about and stood there and let me shear him. They're always happy after shearing, whether it's to be untethered or just having the load taken off. That old Falkland started hopping and playing after I sheared him. He was something else. My aunt would go to all the fiber fests and take me with her, and I'd get paid to shear people's sheep. For some reason, the animals don't get stressed out by me."

"Except squirrels." T-Dog laughed.

Andrea began shaking her head. "Would you go to the big wool festival in Athens?"

"Hell, yeah. I'd make all the money I needed for a year in one week at that one." Daryl answered.

"And there was always a big crowd, watching and people bringing sheep from all over everywhere for you to shear?"

He shrugged, eyeing her suspiciously.

Andrea gave him a warm smile. "I knew there was something familiar about you. That was always my favorite part of the festival. Watching the sheep just stand there and you would shear them completely unrestrained. It was amazing. That was you, Daryl."

He looked back into the box of hats.

"Normally, they have to be restrained by two people while the shearer does as quick a job as possible." Andrea explained to Glenn and T-Dog. "I've seen sheep just gather around Daryl, each waiting its turn to be sheared. Eagerly. No restraints. They would just lie on their sides for him to shear their bellies. It was amazing. You would go to people's farms too, right?"

Daryl nodded, embarrassed that Andrea was talking about him so much.

"My friend, Meg Donovan, would have you come every summer to shear her—"

"The nicest Rambouillet I ever saw. Meg and Rob were real fine people. Do you know if they're okay?"

"They're gone."

"Damn walkers probably destroyed that herd too. Always liked going out to their place. They treated me like royalty with their guest house and Rob would barbecue—"

"Did he make the grilled corn?"

"That corn was awesome. With that big hunk of herb butter?"

Andrea nodded.

"Is that one of those pussyhats for the Women's March?" T-Dog asked with a curious smirk.

"Yep." Andrea said. "I actually have mine in my bag. It's made from Meg's Rambouillet, Daryl."

"Bad ass, man." Daryl sounded almost cheerful, Andrea thought.

"Wouldn't have pegged you for wearing one of those, Daryl." T-Dog laughed.

"So, you think I don't think women's rights are human rights, much less that I think it's okay for men to go around grabbing ladies' private parts without permission? That's sexual assault. And why the hell would I support a billionaire that never did a lick of work in his life and made money off exploiting people and exporting jobs overseas?"

Andrea grinned and put her hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Well, Daryl Dixon, you just became the most interesting man in the world."


End file.
